Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
jane taylor Jun 2016
fly
born in illusory chains
gnarled metal
encrusted in my broken skin
the copper colored dust
of rusted steel
infectiously envelopes

shaving off antiquated layers
of fundamentalist religion
encrusted for generations
unpeeled until raw
an unsophisticated method
unveiling
ancient lodged glass shards
colored with deceit

brought before their court
interrogated
unfathomably skewered
an eerie salem witch trial
in modern times

barbarically they shun me
banished
i wander aimlessly
smelling the rotten decay of deceased community
as splinters pierce my feet
from the crooked wooden plank
i walk alone now

an unfathomable inner ache
kindled a residue within
igniting a wildfire from the darkest shadows
uncontainably erupting
i dance savagely
naked in the orange moonlight
and in every shaded edge
lit my soul ablaze

i am a nomad sheep
‘tho not one of their color
no pasture to contain me
no shepherd i can follow
theological safety nets
no longer there to catch me
bohemian-like
i plunge

free falling
plummeting
stripped wide open
magically
fearlessness
reverses gravitation

floating
untethered
i soar amongst
apricot tinged clouds
my skin still wet from rebirth
and rise with the flaming coral sun

you cannot destroy me
i twisted in your decrepit pencil sharpener
and with fresh mettle
cut through the chains that bound

you can have my ego
but you cannot have my soul

dismantling domestication
transcending limitation
wildly untamed
i fly

©2016janetaylor
my husband and i left the mormon church and lost many friends, family, and community
Sharon Thomas Oct 2016
Sister who conceived was thrown outta the nunnery
This disgrace fed the top feeds hence.
Shunning all her exemplary works at once.
But where did the well-read ladies lose reference?
THE BOOK had revealed it all right there,
But when history repeated itself...
with just a track from heaven missing
And so this mother raised a fatherless child.
But in history when the father was a Carpenter.
Here in time the father was a Father
Who continued to raise "patriarchy" on the altar!
Sara Kellie Oct 2018
Religion is Recruiting for
Customer Complaints.
Where is my God, the disciples
and all the absent saints?
The time I have invested
sitting in your church.
This wasn't in your advert
you've left me in the lurch.
I'm asking for a refund,
you've years to reimburse
and then there is the funeral,
the flowers and the hearse.

I've sat on your pew,
spent time praying to you
and now that I'm dead,
I'm unsure what to do.
I should have known better,
you never replied.
Yet I kept the faith
until the day that I died.

Now I queue to complain,
I must be ******' insane!
because,
well,
you don't even exist!

Poetry by Kaydee.
On the first day, man created God.
Kenn Rushworth Jun 2015
A world in colour lies
                semi-distant, semi realised,
A near-forgotten future exsanguinates, yearning
              in the weakened glow, of infinite winter morning.
The voice, the voices, the voiceless, my anger, my age;
                Pan-millennial youth in coming years will fade;
It will carry duvet and pillow from hateful home
                to halfway-house until half way home
It will make all its hearts into the shape of cardboard,
                blemish the fire with chemical ****, **** hard,
It will seek forgiveness at the steps of screen,
                beat asthmatic chests, fingers, ribs and seams
It will see itself cower in the horrible light of mirror,
               sail to the sun on wings of fakes lashes;
And it will burn, burn not in forgiving hangover sodium,
                but burn in the eye of a guilt yet to come,
And it will drown, drown at the blessing of the water,
               drown at its birth time and time over,
And it will wound in scythe and cushion comfort,
                wound the waking dream in Siamese horror of sorts,
And it will leave strangled in the cords of its university hoody,
                leave alone at night, touch itself and cry.

Bursting rhythm from the panopticon, viewing all aspects
                of itself engulfed in ex-disney coloured acid
                spewing forth from the desired wreck,
Hurtling profound and profane into and beyond
                ******* and love and love and *******,
                *****-tinged snows lubricating seasons onward into each other,
Gut-busting, gut-busting, gut-busting societal downpour to harridan office
                from liquor dormitory, escaping and elevating
                on citalopram or selegiline,
The surgeons and nurses, the poets and builders, ever restless
                at the unbolted door, screaming into their unread hands,
                comparing varying hell to holy water lakes of others,
Sipping the dew from paradise wing, discontent with all
                in purgatory-England whilst licking the knee
                of America and imagined Europe,
Wanking itself dry at the lottery of thought,
                crude reckonings spiralling sugar into salt
                landing on the tongue of want,
Feeling crucified at the Atheist tea party
                climbing the cross of trend
                supplying own milk and nails,
Unwanting in the chrysalis, ignoring coming candles
                but fantasising a thousand symmetrical suns
                to limited avail and idea.

But idea there will be, birthed, blood-hungry
                gnawing at the heel ‘til bare bone,
And it will rip apart fat riddled arteries
                Deconstruct, Reconstruct all the bodies and the cites,
And it will write and spell all the words wrong
                realising that what ‘they’ are selling is sign language for the blind,
And it will note of itself as harsh but not unkind,
                reject bribe bread and water be it divided or divined,
And it will say of cartography “No need as of yet,
                I have seen men lost in the lining of a suit,
Crying into their shoes, uncombed, unfettered, unfertilised, without hope
                after laughing into empty lakes.”
We can each say “My God, my empty sky, my cartoon prophet, my local MP,
                I have seen everything and want none of it,
                I am alone in a narrow shape of time,
                watching us all unfurl to the scent of burning feathers and hair,
                to the sound of punctured veins.”
We watch silent litanies for graceful pardons of filth,
                in “Amen” then nothing,
We watch our age’s world rend lung
                through hollow cheeks and air in our bones,
We watch ourselves into eyes or no eyes at all
                watch ourselves read last lines and then
                watch ourselves realise and whimper
                from ulcerated gut, tongue or pen,
                the everlasting knell…

                “…And it will happen again…”
Did you know that
if you pour fat on a stone
God will eat it and
chip his teeth
becoming, ...angry?

Did you know that?

Is that, ...literal?
in meaning...
did God once bite a man's flesh
consuming his shoulder;
like a pork shoulder?

Did God do that?

Maybe God just shouldered,
...the burden of...
silly men and teacher's tales?
Maybe he didn't chip his teeth at all?
Perhaps he swallowed something ridiculous?

I don't know,
Believe what you like...

From space the Peloponnese,
appear like a chewed-up shoulder.


Don't they?
Cingyeng Vang Aug 2018
Workers of lawlessness, you think you know him
But you pray to a dead god; a god of fantasy
A false god of the pharisee
Thinking you'll be in a place that's heavenly
But he stops to tell you, "You don't know me."

You looked at the door, but there was never a knock
You thought your heart was flesh, but it was still a rock
You felt so Godly, but you follow the crooked path of the folly

Cause a wolf in the herd you still are
But still you don't know his name
When he called from afar
Only his sheep came.

Matthew 7:21-23
Being Christian is more than following rules, dead fishes can go with the flow too.
zebra Jan 2017
im full of my self
a cacophony
of unsavory menacing
radiating ideation's
of the twilight

color me
darkness

when ever i see
six six six
i always think
*** *** ***

petition the church
for my exorcism
cleans me oh lord
i need an enema
purge me
of small thoughts
and big talk
perhaps
i could be good
like
nice weather
a phone number
or
a
*******
A branch of the tree,
split of the yoke.

Bee of the mouth,
heart thus bespoke.

New year crisis of men,
fire works, fire, smoke.

I have heard The Calling,
-anguish of The Woman.

Tree
Branch
Bee
Christianity
Islam
Bee

"If You engage War and the spirit of the Lord is with you; then the wind of his spirit shall blow open the mouth of the Dragon bringing victory in order."
In ancient language the, 'Bee,' represents god's word or the divine message of the Lord. 'Branch,' is the descent of man from the garden or tree of life.
it's been a day
since we last let our love seep through,
since you held me close
in that moment, now long gone.

then you shoved me away
once you'd had enough
of my then-green heart;
it's been a day.

your punches and kicks
have turned my heart black;
i will no longer feel.
i won't let myself.

"that didn't count,"
your worried soul insisted
never venturing beyond
your delicate bubble.

go after her then.
Leave me here,
a sinful
nothing.

go after her then.
go be
your father's
son.

love
is simply too elusive.
so you may as well
get comfortable.
Shaine Fraz Jul 2017
He's known to flip a bat on occasion
it's blatant
-- radiating cool kid,
a mutant?

holy cardinal like:
who bare rib?
fresh cut new did,
said -- who is this?

slow tread, wrangled thee
there's a 4x4 in his 20/20,
he asked -- “double play?”
the kid ran away

kept pace enough for super stardom
baring set backs
he's set,
lack the vision but he's starting running back,

ran back to the house of worship,
***** housed adolescence,
children they're just victims
with an unnatural talents,

ravenous,
an unnatural predator,
apex,
believed in --

shot blocks and safe ***, fingers latex,
washed him from his feet to my index,
He's speechless,
forgiven,

it's blatant,
coverage hidden,
and what's written is
-- this too shall pass,

as he quoted scripture,
his hand on the right shoulder,
Nearer,
he gets nearer,

meter,
100 meter,
still not older or sober,
And too young to know what ******* was

but,
one 'hell' of an athlete,
sadly
his pastor praised his ministries,
monstrosities.
© 2017 by S Fraz All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of S Fraz
Beginning, aware, darkness, discomfort, fear, constriction, fear, emerge, shaken, washed, fear, breathe, cry, cleansed, wrapped, warmth, cry, awakened, opened, blinding, pain, cry, cuddled, warmth, safe, sleep, awake, hungry, she, need, love, them, those, bed, home, play, learning, friends, fun, joy, her, desire, love, pride, fulfillment, union, us, we, baby, life, accomplishment, dying, fear, memories, anxiety, pain, fear, love, light, tunnel, blinding, receding, aware, darkness, beginning…

* “From nothing we are born to know,
                   …into nothingness we all shall go,"

"A journey after gifts we give,
                    But before we do; -live.”
*
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
Not at all terror has no religion
today like yesterday London is ON!
For good for the good reason!!
Like in the West, in the East
It’s the same for all the people.

Send to the prison
the terrorist has no religion.
There are terrorists
on the front and more
so behind the scene
forget not both
are equally terrorists!
Next page